


Picture It

by Tenoko1



Series: Christmas Cruise [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, Christmas, Christmas Cruise, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, One-Sided Flirting, Photographs, Pictures, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sibling friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: “What was your idea?”“There’s a Santa onboard,” Sam told them.They looked at him over their shoulders, then each other.Dean raised a brow. “Uh, Sammy, I broke your heart the first time I explained Santa wasn’t real. Do we need to have the conversation again?”He rolled his eyes. “I meant Jack.”“Wait. Does Jack think Santa’s real?” His gaze flicked between them, a hint of panic in his green eyes. “Does he even know who Santa is? Oh God, do we have to tell him Santa’s not real?” He threw up his hands. “Not it! I am not breaking that kid’s heart.”





	Picture It

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of the Christmas Cruise collection. Each part can ABSOLUTELY be read as a standalone. "Picture It" was written for the SPN HolidayMixtape challenge on Tumblr.

“So I had an idea,” Sam’s said in lieu of a greeting, his shadow falling over Dean.

Half-dozing in a lounge chair, Dean’s face contorted into a scowl. “You are blocking my sun,” he groused.

It was for the best. He was due sunblock and should go inside to take a nap anyway. Vacations and cruises at Christmas were all well and good until someone ruined it with sun sickness and blisters from exposure.

Cracking open an eye, Dean saw his brother haloed in the light of the sun, too brilliant and painful to look at. He jerked his face away, eyes slammed shut. “Geez. It’s like looking into the face of Jesus.” He gave Cas’ forearm a shake. “Wake up, buddy.”

Pulling the ‘I’m too old for this’ card, Dean and Cas had opted to stay on the cruise ship while it was in port for the day. Sam and Jack went on excursions and played volleyball and frisbee and life-sized chess on the beach.

“I am awake,” Cas answered serenely. “But my inner cat is perfectly happy in the sun and I will not be moving.”

Rolling his eyes with a chuckle, Dean pushed himself up. He shielded his eyes. “You need to apply more sunscreen, at least.”

“I had an idea,” Sam reiterated.

“And I have vacation brain, Sammy, give me a minute. I pretty much just woke up.” He grappled for his bag and phone. “What time is it? Have we been out here all day?”

Sam shook his head. “No, we came back early. This island is more resort than anything, so the options are limited. We went to their small zoo, Jack zip-lined and nearly got crushed by a giant chess queen-- it was as funny as it sounds. His hand-eye coordination for frisbee is sort of amazing and terrifying, and then with nothing else to do, we came back to the ship. He wants us to all play putt-putt again. And I had an idea.”

Dean’s stomach let out a loud rumble.

Cas eyed it then offered Sam a smirk. “Wanna explain over lunch?” He looked around. “Where is Jack?”

“Getting a shower,” Sam said. “He headed straight for the buffet while I came to find you.”

Dean pushed to his feet, before pivoting and offering a hand out. He dragged Cas up as he groaned his protest. “C’mon, lazy bones. Food. _Burgers_.”

“The way to my heart,” he said, before grabbing his bag. “Let’s go.”

Snorting, Dean pressed a hand to his chest, before seeming to realize his hand was on Cas’ bare skin and yanking it back. “Shirt, Cas. Not that there aren’t people who wouldn’t appreciate,” he made a vague gesture to tan skin and toned muscles, “but _shirt_.”

Sam watched the coyness flash in his eyes, a smile tugging one side of his mouth before licking his bottom lip.

“What if I want to be appreciated?” Cas questioned, hooded eyes locked on Dean.

Sam and Dean’s eyebrows both shot up in surprise, a blush flooding Dean’s face.

Jerking his face away and snorting a suppressed laugh, Sam rolled his lips into his mouth to bite back a smile and further laughter. He finally coughed to remind them he was still there.

Smirking, Cas retrieved his shirt and slipped into it. Dean just stared, like his brain had shut down and was rebooting.

“Shirt, Dean,” Sam said.

Wide, blinking eyes looked at him, lost. “I... wha-?”

“You need a shirt, too,” he enunciated, watching at Dean looked down like had no idea what Sam was talking about, then flushing even darker as he snatched up and yanked on his t-shirt, face turned away from both of them.

Once, when he’d been younger and more naive, Sam had thought he’d stop walking in on these moments Dean and Cas always seemed to find themselves in. Then, he’d realized that wasn’t possible so long as they were in a room together. He’d just accepted his fate and gotten better about walking off or clearing his throat.

To be fair, that was the most blatant flirting he thought he’d ever witnessed between them. His brother being left blushing and stammering was absolutely worth the awkwardness.

Maybe a vacation would end up being good for them in ways he hadn’t expected.

“You had a crisis,” Dean prompted, bag on his shoulder and resolutely not looking at them.

“I didn’t,” Sam said. “You may have. I had an idea.”

Dean scowled at him over his shoulder as they entered the interior of the cruise ship.

“What was your idea?”

“There’s a Santa onboard,” Sam told them.

They looked at him over their shoulders, then each other.

Dean raised a brow. “Uh, Sammy, I broke your heart the first time I explained Santa wasn’t real. Do we need to have the conversation again?”

He rolled his eyes. “I meant Jack.”

“Wait. Does Jack think Santa’s real?” His gaze flicked between them, a hint of panic in his green eyes. “Does he even know who Santa is? Oh God, do we have to tell him Santa’s not real?” He threw up his hands. “Not it! I am not breaking that kid’s heart.”

“Jack doesn’t think Santa is real.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I am the one who explained Christmas and Santa,” Sam exclaimed, gesturing all around to the Christmas decorations throughout the whole ship. “We’re on a Christmas cruise! He had questions!”

“Dear God, Sam, did you break his heart?”

“What? No!”

“Sam, you _monster_.”

Sam swatted him with a scowl. “You’re a horrible brother.”

He grinned. “Are you still upset Santa isn’t real?”

Castiel heaved a sigh. “Would the two of you behave before these people decide to leave us stranded at port?” He held out his hands to accept hand sanitizer as they stepped into the main dining hall and massive buffet, then shot them both a dirty look. “I haven’t even had my burgers yet.”

Clapping a hand on his shoulder, Dean squeezed, hand lingering as he assured, “I would never keep you from burgers, Cas.” His grin swept to Sam. “Getting a salad, Samsquatch, or are you gonna get proper food this time? Salad is at home. Gourmet isn’t.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a plate. “Not like your burgers are gourmet.” He jerked his chin. “Usual area in the back?”

Dean’s hand finally fell away from Cas’ shoulder as he grabbed a plate. “Yep! Beat off an old lady or small child if you have to.”

Sam laughed before they went in different directions.

 

When they met up again, it was at a table at the very back, by the wall of glass that looked out over the tropical beach and ocean.

Dean and Cas both had plates with burgers, Dean carrying a second plate loaded down with curly fries.

Sam’s brows rose. “Hungry, Dean?”

He frowned, jerking his head at Cas as they sat. “We’re sharing.”

Hazel eyes slid to Castiel beside him, the two-- frankly, amazing looking-- burgers on his plate. He set a small bowl of ranch between their plates and beneath the fries.

One of these days they were going to end up eating off each other's plates like that movie with Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant. Or, well, like the rom-com _they_ were. What would it be titled?

Sam used his fork and knife to pull his rotisserie chicken breast apart. “Anyway. I had an idea.”

“We didn’t get drinks,” Dean announced, looking at the table in bewilderment like they’d wandered off.

Setting down his burger, Cas pushed his chair back. “I’ll grab them.”

They watched him leave and a breathy chuckle burst from Sam as he went back to his lunch. “You are so married.”

Dean did a double-take. “What?”

He flicked his eyes up. “He put down his burger for you.” He smirked, one brow ticking higher. “That’s love.”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sam, you’re adopted.”

“No, I have indisputable proof that I’m not.”

“What proof?”

“The apocalypse.”

Finger raised and mouth open, Dean froze. His teeth clacked shut and he pointed at him. “You’re not wrong. I can’t argue with that.” His shoulders shook as he picked up one of his burgers, smiling. “That shouldn’t be funny.”

“And yet.”

“And yet,” he agreed.

Cas returned, setting down two glasses of water as he took his seat. “What did I miss?”

“I’m not adopted,” Sam told him, grinning.

Mouth pulling in a deep frown, Cas’ blue eyes slid to Dean.

He nodded. “It’s true. He’s not.”

His gaze returned to Sam again. “...congratulations?”

He smiled around his fork.

Dean leaned his head toward Cas. “Also, we’re married.”

Cas and Sam both choked violently on their food.

It was Cas that recovered first, head swinging around to look at Dean. “How did you go from Sam being adopted to the two of you being married?”

Sam choked further, one hand to his chest as he reached for his water.

Dean threw his head back on a laugh. “No! _You and I_ are married,” he said, grin wide and unconcerned for Sam’s health as he nodded toward him. “Sam said so. Because you put down your burger for me to get us water.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Cas sighed, body sagging, before waving it off and returning to the aforementioned burger. “Yes, Dean, happily married. I would gladly give you one of my burgers and the rest of my life.”

Gobsmacked, Dean made a sound like he was trying to speak while being strangled, aborted vowels sounds, face changing to a deep red.

Sam slammed down his now empty water glass, glaring at both of them and making Dean nearly jump out of his skin.

“If the two of you are _done_ ,” he snapped, “some of us would like to keep breathing and tell you his brilliant family idea.”

Cas laced his fingers together and propped his chin on them. “You have my complete and undivided attention.”

Sam snapped his gaze to Dean, who meekly turned his attention back to his lunch. When Sam waited, Dean nodded, face a brilliant pink and brow furrowed, and not looking up from his plate other than a scant glance. Sam couldn’t blame him and didn’t hold it against him. Cas was definitely upping his game.

“This is Jack’s first proper Christmas,” Sam said. “He needs to meet Santa.”

Dean’s head jerked up. “Didn’t we already cover that Jack knows Santa isn’t real?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he speared chicken and asparagus on his fork. “They have an area set up to get pictures with Santa.” He talked around his mouthful. “We should take Jack.”

“To get his picture with Santa?” Castiel echoed.

Sam pointed his fork at Dean, who had his head tilted, considering him. “Back me up on this.”

“Isn’t that a tradition for small children who believe in the storybook Santa?” Cas wondered.

“...it’s more of just… a fun Christmas tradition, from what I can tell,” Dean began. “Harmless fun emphasizing innocence and wonder and, like, making the world better by being kinder.” Castiel regarded him and he shrugged but didn’t meet his eye. “I don’t know. It’s a thing. It’s the only time of the year people are nicer… just because. The whole spirit of the thing.”

“People remember to be better versions of themselves,” Sam murmured.

Castiel’s blue eyes flicked to him. “What does it have to do with Santa?”

He shrugged. “He represents Christmas. And wonder and imagination.”

“...It would be cute,” Dean admitted. Sam grinned. “And it’s sort of a tradition for normal families. The kids always get pictures with Santa.”

“Won’t he appear too old for that?”

“No, actually,” Sam said. “Because it is just good, innocent fun, a lot of people do it just to do it-- or to commemorate being on a Christmas cruise or something.”

“How would we explain it to Jack?”

“Just tell him it’s a Christmas tradition.” When Cas continued to look dubious Sam shrugged. “And it’s not like we have any pictures of him.”

That got him.

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “That sounds like a great idea. After lunch?”

Sam shook his head and checked the time on his phone. “Santa’s not there for another few hours.” He looked at both of them. “I figured we could get showers and changed and get the photos before having dinner in the Tropicana Room.”

Dean scowled. “Fancy ballroom dinner? Pass.”

“If it makes you feel better, you can pretend to be James Bond, Dean. Undercover on a mission.”

“Can’t we go to one of the other restaurants?”

“Dean, how often do we get to live lives outside of our own and just indulge?”

“You are dead set on a fancy dinner, aren’t you?”

He gave him a beseeching look. “Do it for me?”

Dean scowled darker, jabbing a finger at him. “You’re _cheating_.”

“Yes, I am.” He grinned. “There will also be photographers all over the ship and we could get some family photos--”

“No, Sam!”

“We don’t have any photos!”

“Doesn’t mean we’re doing some awkward, BS, Olan Mills photo shoot--”

“It wouldn’t be like that!”

“Yes, it would!” Dean snapped. “That’s why people make fun of them on the internet!”

“This is not the 90’s and we are not small children at a Walmart!”

“I’d like a photo of us,” Castiel commented, making both of them snap their attention him. He angled his head. “I only have one of the two of you but it’s older. And creased.”

Dean blinked, taken aback. “You have a photo of us?”

Sam said nothing, dropping his gaze as he suddenly remembered finding the photo once, a very long time ago.

“Bobby gave it to me,” he admitted, attention lowered to his food like he realized he’d admitted more than he wanted. “It’s from before I met you.”

Dean looked at his food, eyes distant. Sam bit his bottom lip, watching his brother assess and debate and worry before he inhaled a sharp breath, letting it out on a sig, hand waving dismissively.

“Alright, fine. Let’s get fancy dinner and family photos.” He rubbed at his temple. “I think I brought a black tie.”

“I brought an extra, just in case,” Sam assured.

“Were you planning this from the beginning?”

“No. I just knew they had the fine dining options that required dressing nicer. I packed extra ties in case you or Cas forgot yours.”

He arched a brow. “What about Jack?”

“I packed Jack’s suitcase. He has a suit and tie.”

He snorted, looking out the window and not bothering to hide his smile. “You are such a mom.”

“Dean, you are definitely the mother hen and Mama Bear of the group,” Sam assured. “Your title is safe.”

“Shut up.” He glared. “I thought this was about getting pictures of Jack!”

“We can do that, too!” He shrugged. “He’ll just be in a suit when he meets Santa.”

Plucking one of the curly fries, Dean dunked it into the bowl of ranch. “I’m realizing more and more how much humans do not make sense.”

Cas bumped their shoulders together. "Welcome to my life," he said, before tucking into his burger.

Sam picked up his phone, shooting a text to Jack. ‘Putt-putt in 20, then Fancy Family Dinner tonight. We’re getting photos first.’

‘Good. I would like a picture of my family.’

Irresistible smile spreading over his lips, Sam tucked his phone away and returned his attention to lunch.

 

Behind Sam, Dean continued to fidget, rolling his shoulders and tugging on his suit jacket. Again.

“I feel ridiculous,” he groused.

Sam rolled his eyes. He’d been complaining since they’d started getting ready.

It was the same suit he’d bought at the beginning of the year and had worn a dozen times. Dean usually had a little extra swagger when he wore it because he thought it made him look like an agent of the MIB-- especially when he had his sunglasses on.

Sam had put up with him posing and making pew-pew noises too many times.

 _‘That’s_ Star Wars _, not_ Men in Black _, Dean.’_

 _‘It’s sci-fi. All their guns sound the same, Sam. Unless it’s the Cricket_.’

Jack was looking all round in curiosity, leaning to the side to peer past everyone in the line ahead of them to the elaborate photo shoot set with Santa on a red and gold throne.

Castiel, too, was watching the proceedings even as he leaned his head closer to Dean. “You look amazing. Stop fidgeting.”

Sam stole a glance to see the way Dean stood still as stone, hands in pockets and gaze on his shoes.

If Cas kept up, he might very well kill Dean in a single day.

Sam wanted to ask but had learned which conversations he could initiate with his brother and which ones he had to wait him out on.

This one was definitely a waiting game where he thought Dean was close to cracking and breaking.

When it came to their turn, Jack hesitated when the man, taller than Sam, grinned and motioned him forward. Sam, Dean, and Cas all stepped to the side of the line to wait and watch.

“Your turn!” he insisted when Jack didn’t move.

Jack looked at them in question. Sam nodded and he braved a step forward.

“I’ve never had my picture taken with a Santa,” he admitted softly.

The man’s bright smile grew even wider and more blinding. “Santa!” he called. “We have a first-timer!”

The old man, white beard and hair his own, clapped his gloved hands together. “Wonderful!” He scooted to one side of the large throne and patted the space next to him. “Come! Sit next to me! I’m so glad you came!”

Jack threw them another questioning look as he made his way to acquiesce. Sitting on the plush red velvet, tight and stiff, hands on his knees.

Sam turned his head to hide a laugh.

“Now tell me,” Santa insisted, “have you been good this year?”

A nervous glance before regarding the costumed man. “I think so. My mother is proud of me, I’m sure.”

Santa looked toward the line. “And where is your mother?”

“Oh, she’s in Heaven.”

The staff and Santa both turned to him in sharp surprise.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Santa said, voice warm and sincere.

Jack shook his head, then nodded toward them. “I’m okay. They’ve been raising me.”

Twisting, Santa pointed a gloved finger at them. “These gentlemen here?”

Sam waved a little meekly.

Jack grinned. “Yes! Technically, Castiel is my uncle.”

“Oh, well!” he exclaimed. “They must be doing a very fine job! Come, come! Let’s have a family photo!” Sam stiffened and Dean was already shaking his head and declining as the tall, staff member came behind to usher them forward. Santa laughed. “Don’t be shy! Gather round the chair. Let’s see. You two stand on either side with your elbow on the chair,” he instructed Dean and Cas, before looking Sam up and down and making a delighted sound that had Sam laughing. “Oof, you’re taller than my usual visitors. Why don’t you have a seat leaning back against the chair, yes, like that. That should balance out nicely! What say you, helpers?”

The Asian woman manning the camera held up a thumbs up. “Great family photo if I ever saw one, Santa! Alright, everybody, look here and smile! Or vogue it, that, too!” The flash went off. “One more!” When she straightened, she was grinning. “You’d think you gentlemen pose for photos professionally.” Her nose wrinkled with her smile as she looked at Jack. “And you look so delighted. These turned out wonderful!”

“How do we get them?” Jack asked, hopping up from the chair, before spinning around, inclining his head curtly to Santa. “Thank you very much.”

“You are _most welcome_ , Jack,” he said, voice warm and fond. “Have a _wonderful_ Christmas. Continue being so good.”

He nodded, wrinkle to his brow, while Sam listened to the steward explaining how their pictures were connected to their room numbers and could be found the next day on one of the photo kiosks.

He turned to them, hands clapping together. “Alright! On to the next.”

Dean rolled his eyes but turned, hands in his pockets. Cas fell into step beside him. “Okay, so, I am not doing any awkward family photos, I’m just not, so if we do any more pictures, we make them cool.”

Jack walked amiably beside Sam, looking around in curiosity as well as back-and-forth to follow the conversation.

Sam frowned. “...define ‘cool’.”

“ _Blues Brothers, MIB, Agents of SHIELD, Charlie’s Angels_ , ‘when does their next album drop’, etc. You know. _Cool_.”

“You want to _pose_.”

“I just don’t want creepy, awkward pictures.”

“I doubt the photographers would let it end up that way. They want us to buy them.”

Cas put a hand to the small of his back, eyes on his face. “I doubt the picture will be nearly so bad as you are fearing, Dean. Just relax. We’ll go to dinner after.”

Sam couldn’t see his face, but he saw the way his ears turned pink and he turned his head away.

“Yeah, alright, whatever. We’ll let the photographer do their job-- but we’re still doing cool poses.”

“We could all be Jack’s bodyguards,” Sam suggested.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “I raised you well.”

 

They went to five or six different photographer locations, sometimes doing as they were instructed, and others times offering ideas to them and letting the photographer pose them for the best results. Their years of acting skills came in handy when they had to go from laughing at their own antics to serious for the next picture.

There were a few Sam was looking forward to the most, the Santa picture included. There was one against an artistic metal wall that was definitely going to look like the album cover for a music group. The bodyguard pic was undoubtedly going to be fantastic. The photographer had crowed about it. As well as the one with the four of them lined up and leaning on their arms against the railing in front of a spiraling chandelier that changed colors. Their arms had all intersected as they’d lined up, legs angled as the photographer instructed. Dean had whispered: “Vogue it”.

When they got home, Sam was going to buy and create a photo album and start filling it with pictures of all of them and trips they took as a family.

It was something they deserved, the chance to get to live lives beyond just hunting monsters and saving the world. They deserved to exist and be.

He wanted to memorialize that. Wanted something he could hold in his hands and flip through, remembering and reliving each moment with the knowledge they weren’t through creating memories yet, as well as the knowledge they had made these things possible by their sacrifices and saving the world.

They deserved good things and being happy. They deserve getting to be a family.

Ruffling Jack’s hair with a grin, Sam swiveled hazel eyes to Dean and Cas. “So, who's ready for black tie family dinner?”

Green eyes trailed over each of them, Dean’s face breaking into a grin. “We look damn good if I do say so myself. Let’s go put some people to shame.”

Jack hesitated, looking back the way they’d come, bottom lip between his teeth.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Dean questioned.

He shook his head, swinging his head around to look at them. “...Nothing, exactly. It’s just… I thanked Santa earlier. For our picture. He said ‘You are most welcome, Jack’.”

Sam pursed his lips. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

Jack looked up at him, blinking wide, innocent eyes. “...I didn’t tell him my name.”

Sam’s eyes snapped to Dean’s, the two of them staring at each other before turning their heads to look back the way they’d come.

“Cas…” Dean began. “Santa’s not _real_... right?”

A smirk curling the corner of his mouth, Castiel shot Dean another one of those coy, flirtatious looks that had Sam’s brows shooting up.

“Do you _really_ want me to answer that?”

Pushing out his mouth, Dean met Sam’s eyes again. Sam shook his head and Dean nodded.

He turned and slung an arm around Cas’ neck, turning them back the way they had been going. “No. No, I do not.” His hand settled on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he looked back at Sam and Jack. “We are going to eat a fancy dinner and not think about that. Right, Sammy?”

He matched his grin. “Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please remember to always properly feed and water your fanwork creators: like, comment, kudos, reblog (and tag), and rec their fics/gifs/graphics/artwork/podfics/vids/other works to your friends. You may think you don't have to because they probably get enough praise already, but I promise you they don't. Small things will make their day and WEEK.


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